Paper Plane
by Pie.Flavored.Pie
Summary: Alfred is a sick child with not much time left, and Arthur is a Prisoner with no chance of escape. What happens when the two meet by a incident with a paper plane named America? USUK, based off of the Vocaloid song Paper Plane by Rin Kagamine. Set in WW2
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Uh, hi! XD I know I really shouldn't be starting other multichapter fics right now when I could be working on Scores and Scales but…Well, I got another fanfiction Idea and I wanted to write/type it up so that way I don't forget about it. ^ ^ So here you go! :3 this story is based off the Vocaloid song Paper Plane by Rin kagamine.

Warnings: If you haven't heard the song…This story is about WW2 concentration camps..don't read if you get offended please.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. Although I wish I did. T^T

The day was sunny and bright. Birds were singing in the trees, and children were out playing in the streets, laughing and throwing Frisbees, enjoying the feeling of the sun on their skin. Everything seemed calm and happy. The only thing that could have passed as odd, were the parents of the children, who were glancing around nervously, their tired eyes full of worry. Then again, how could anything be completely calm at a time like this? The year was 1942, and the Second World War was in full swing.

A young ten-year old boy with the name Alfred was also out playing on that sunny day, but he wasn't with any other children. He didn't have any friends. He had lived in a hospital his whole life, having been diagnosed with at a slow acting paralysis disease at a young age. Today was one of those lucky days he was allowed out of his small, bleak hospital room for a few hours. "You must be back before supper." Elizabeta had told him. That was okay with Alfred though, he really couldn't care less, just as long as he could go outside, even if it was just for a few minutes. Too oblivious to notice his tense surroundings, he folded up a plane out of a paper he had found in his room, then continued onward, running across the street, feeling accomplished for making such a awesome plane. "Heh, I'll call you America, okay?" He said with a grin, bringing his arm back and tossing the plane. "Woaaaahhhh! Look at it go!" he exclaimed to no one, cupping a hand over his eyes to watch it sail upwards towards the sun. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew the plane off course, and it started sailing towards a large open field. "H-hey! Don't fly away, America!" he yelled, chasing after it, ignoring the 'do not enter' sign that was planted at the front of the field. Picking up speed, Alfred caught up just in time to see his plane fly right over a tall, barbed wire fence. "Awww mannn!" he whined, approaching the fence slowly, "How am I supposed to get it now?" he asked no one, crouching down next to the fence. He tilted his head to get a better look at his plane. It was now resting peacefully in a patch of tall grass on the opposite side of the fence. Alfred stared at the plane for a moment, as if he could use some of his non-existent telepathic powers to will the plane back to him. When it finally kicked in that he wouldn't be getting his beloved plane back, The blue-eyed boy groaned and rolled back onto his heels, falling backwards into the soft grass. "So much for that, huh?" he said to the sky, blinking at the clouds with a yawn. "Man..just running that much was hard work..I should ask Nurse Elizabeta if I can come out more often…" Alfred closed his eyes for a moment and extended his arms and legs, stretching out his tired limbs. Sighing at the feeling of the warm sun on his skin, Alfred closed his eyes, quickly falling asleep to the sound of singing birds.

*Paper Plane*

Arthur blinked up at the sky, sighing at the feeling of the sun on his pale and dirty skin. _Life here is boring,_ the green eyed boy thought. But then again, it's not like Arthur could get up and leave. He was a prisoner. A prisoner who was dragged away from his peaceful home a few weeks before, and brought to this concentration camp on a overly cramped train. Why was he taken here? Well, his mother, unable to handle the stress of constantly worrying about her son to be discovered, she turned him in, hoping that would keep her safe from the Gestapo. But when they had come to take Arthur away, they took her as well, much to her surprise. _Serves her right, _Arthur thought angrily, _that wench. _Shaking his head in disgust, Arthur stood up and was about to go and look for his 'jail mate' Antonio when he heard what sounded like a voice. A voice? No one is supposed to talk during the day. Curious, Arthur turned and started walking towards the source of the voice. Realizing how close he was from the fence, he froze. It was strictly forbidden for anyone to visit that fence. Anyone caught or seen at that fence was immediately taken to the gas chambers. Shivering at the thought, the green-eyed British boy started to head back to his bunkhouse when a piece of folded paper caught his eyes. Slowly turning around to face it, he tilted his head curiously. Was he delusional, or was there _really_ a paper airplane there? Narrowing his eyes, he found that it really WAS a paper airplane. Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, he darted forward and snatched the piece of paper and fled back to his previous spot. Turning the plane over, he examined the neat folds with admiration. It had been a while since he had seen one. Flipping it over, he noticed that 'America' was scribbled in messy handwriting along one of the wings. "America, huh…?" He asked to no one, looking up once again to look at the tall, barbed wire fence. His eyes widened in surprise when he noticed a boy laying down in the grass on the other side. Oh…this must be his, Arthur thought. Perhaps I should be a gentleman and return it. Frowning, he ran his finger along the plane sadly before sighing and reaching into his pocket. When his hand resurfaced, he opened his palm to see the tiny pencil sitting in his hands. He had snuck it into his pants while the police weren't looking. He carefully unfolded the plane and walked over to a wall, placing the plane against it so he had a surface to write on. Smiling slightly, he wrote on the boy's plane with a cursive font. "Git..I'm surprised he came here…" Arthur muttered, re-folding the little plane. Slowly walking to the fence, he glanced around once more before bringing his arm back, and flicking his hand forward, sending the plane over the fence. He stared down at the boy for a moment, envious of his freedom and obvious liveliness. Furrowing his thick eyebrows, he turned away, a frown on his face. "Idiot.." he looked up at the sky one more time before quickly running towards the bunk house, emerald eyes searching the masses for a tan, brown haired boy.

*Paper Plane*

A/N: pff..I'm not sure I like this one..3 I might not continue it..Here, how about you give me your opinion? If I should keep writing it, PM me, or Review with a 'yes'. ^ ^ To Scores and Scales fans, the next chapter is coming up shortly~ Thank you for reading! :3


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Eh, so yeah. Here's the next chapter…hopefully the drama will begin this chapter. XD Oh, and I want to thank artfan, melt1397, Tensai55, Neelh, and Hi for reviewing..and artfan, BeeBee Fortwright, katakita101, foreversnowynights, and Luna at Midnight for favoriting and alerting this story. ^ ^ I love you guys so much!

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, children! BI If I did, I wouldn't be writing Fanfictions. I would just make my stories episodes. XD

Warnings: If your offended at all by Holocaust scenarios..please don't read. ~

A pair of Electric blue eyes slowly blinked open, the fuzziness that follows after sleep fading away as he sat up. "Aww mannn..did I fall asleepp?" Alfred asked, rubbing the back of his head slowly, still not fully awake. "Musst have… 'Cause its darker than it was before.." he said before he froze, suddenly remembering what time he was supposed to be back. "O-Oh no! I have to get back to the hospital!" Alfred cried in surprise, jumping to his feet. As he turned around to run back the way he came, a flash of folded white paper caught his eyes, causing Alfred to pause. "…America?" He asked, as if the plane was going to answer him. Slowly approaching the piece of paper, he looked down to see 'America' was indeed scribbled across the right wing of the plane. "OH!" He said with a grin, crouching down to scoop it up, "It really IS you, America! Ha! I was worried there for a moment…although I don't know why I was.." He said, before pausing for a moment to think. "…Wait a second..Weren't you over that fence right there?" Alfred said, pointing to the large fence only a few feet away. "…hm. Well, whatever, as long as your back." The blue-eyed boy said with a shrug, turning around, starting to walk out of the field. "I really do wonder how you got back over that fence though, America…" He said, frowning slightly. "Maybe someone threw it back? Eh, It don't know…" he mumbled to himself, looking up at the now red, pink, and yellow hue the sky had. "We should probably go home now though, before Elizabeta gets angry.." Alfred said to his little plane, "Unless I want to get chased with a frying pan again.." With those words, Alfred shuddered, shaking his head. "No, I'll pass on that opportunity." He said as he pocketed the airplane and started sprinting towards the hospital.

***Paper Plane***

"Hey, Arthur?" A tan, brown haired boy asked, plucking a blade of grass from the ground, "Where were you earlier today? You were late for dinner…"

Arthur glanced up at the boy next to him, pausing in his writing. "Oh…" Arthur said slowly, "I was just…out. Yes, I was simply out and didn't realize the time." Arthur explained with a nod, mainly to reassure himself that that's what truly happened, and he really didn't approach the fence.

"Uh…huh…" Antonio said, furrowing his eyebrows slightly with a frown, twirling the blade of grass between his fingers. "Well, I'm surprised the Guards didn't harass you about it…We do have set eating times after all."

Arthur just shrugged. "Well, I think they were too busy with that mother and her crying child to notice..poor chaps." He mumbled, looking back down at his writing with a frown.

Antonio also frowned. "Yeah….What are you writing, Arthur?" The brown-haired boy asked, clearly wanting to change the subject.

"The usual." Arthur said with a yawn, stretching out his aching arms and legs.

The brown haired boy nodded, blinking up at the ceiling, putting his arms back to lean on them. "Hm…Are you going ever going to stop writing that diary of yours, fratello?"

Arthur paused at that, thinking for a moment. "…Maybe if something interesting happens….who knows? Maybe I'll get some inspiration somewhere." He said with a tiny smile, thinking of the blonde haired boy and his paper plane.

***Paper Plane***

As soon as Alfred came through the hospital doors, Elizabeta came running to him, long brown hair flowing behind her. "ALFRED! Your late!" She yelled, throwing her arms into the air. "I gave you a specific time to come home, and your late, AGAIN! Is it really that hard to remember to be back at a certain time?" She demanded, putting her hands on her hips with a frown.

Alfred smiled weakly, wiping beads of sweat off his forehead, breathing pretty hard. "S-Sorry, Nurse Elizabeta.." He said, leaning against a wall to catch his breath, careful not to crush the plane that was currently resting in his pocket.

Elizabeta paused in her ranting to look down at Alfred. "Oh..Are you alright Alfred? Are your muscles tightening up? Should I go get a wheelchair?" She asked, her fern colored green eyes filled with concern.

Alfred shook his head, standing up straight and taking a deep breath. "No, I 'm fine." He said with a small smile, just to keep her from worrying. _I don't want to scare her…I am a hero after all._

Elizabeta looked unconvinced. "Alright..Well… Why don't you head up to your room? I'll bring you your food shortly." She said softly, gently smiling at the small boy.

Alfred nodded. "Okay." With that said, Alfred walked past his nurse, and made his way slowly up the stairs, being extremely careful to make sure his aching feet hit each step.

The long-haired girl watched as Alfred left, a frown on her face. "…" Looking down, she sniffed and walked back into the hospital cafeteria, wiping away tears. _It's getting harder for him..I can tell..Why is he trying so hard to pretend as if he's okay? _

She was pulled from her thoughts as a voice reached her ears. "Is he alright, Elizabeta?" Turning to face the holder of the voice, her frown deepened. "No…Roderich, it's getting harder for him to run and walk…He was out of breath when he came in."

The velvet eyed man frowned and blinked at the woman standing before him. "Are you sure? Maybe he was just running a long distance…Its too early to jump to conclusions."

Elizabeta nodded slowly. _But that's what you always say. "_Yes…perhaps your right…" she said with a whisper, turning away from him to head towards the kitchen. "I guess I misunderstood.."

Roderich turned his attention back to the reports he was writing. "Ill go check on him later..maybe perform a few tests..just make sure he eats. Also, tell Gilbert he returned..he must be worried about him."

Elizabeta just nodded once more before walking into the kitchen to make Alfred a plate of food.

***Paper Plane***

Once Alfred reached his room, he walked in and plopped down on his bed, not bothering to close the door. "Seesh…My legs hurt.." Alfred said with a cough, looking up at the ceiling. he had put paper stars on it a few months before, so he always had a sky to look at. The blue eyed boy then sighed, and pulled America out of his pocket. "America, let's start going out more, okay? It's a promise." He said with a giggle, turning the plane over to look at it. "….Hey, wait a minute." Alfred said, unfolding the plane slightly. "WOAH! There's writing here!" he exclaimed in surprise, quickly unfolding the paper all the way to stare at the cursive printed there. _I didn't write on this!_, the boy thought, _Who else could have?_ Alfred narrowed his eyes to read the print when suddenly Elizabeta came strolling in, carrying a tray of food.

"Whatchya got there, Alfred?" She asked as she put the tray down on the dark brown table next to Alfred's bed.

Alfred eyes widened at her sudden appearance, and he yelped in surprise, throwing the paper to the side. "I-It was nothing! Nothing at All, Nurse Elizabeta!" He said quickly, sitting up and turning to face her.

Elizabeta raised an eyebrow at him as she picked up the fork and knife and set it down on the table next to the plate. "Alright, Alright, Its okay Alfred..I told you that you don't need to hide things from me. I won't tell that jackass you call dad."

Alfred frowned. "I know, Nurse Elizabeta…but really, its nothing. Just a paper plane I made." He explained with a smile.

"A paper plane, hmm?" she asked, walking over to sit on the edge of his bed, placing her hands in her lap.

Alfred grinned widely at that. "YEAH! Isn't that awesome? I made it by myself!" He announced, puffing out his chest proudly.

The long haired girl smiled softly at him. "Yes…and I'm very proud of you. Now eat your supper before it gets cold, alright?" she said, ruffling the young boy's hair. "I'll be back to check on you later… I need to go see a few patients. Don't get into any trouble while I'm gone, okay? And page me immediately if you are having ANY problems." She said, putting emphasis on the word 'any'.

The blue-eyed boy frowned. "Awww…but do you have to go _NOW_ Elizabeta?" He asked with a pout, picking up the plate of food.

Elizabeta frowned. "Yes, I have to go now...but I promise I'll be back soon." With that said, she stood up, ruffled Alfred's hair one more time, and made her way to the exit. "Remember what I said, Al. Page me if anything happens." Looking at the boy one more time, a soft smile on her face, she turned and walked out into the hallway to go check on her next patients.

Alfred sighed then looked down at his food with a pout, but when he saw what was resting on his plate, his expression immediately brightened. "Aww Yeah!" Alfred shouted, brofisting the air. "She made me a Hamburger!" Picking up the burger, he bit in, thankful that his nurse knew him so well. If a onlooker would have looked in on the previous scene, they would have mistaken Elizabeta for the boy's mother. Heck, even Alfred could have mistaken Elizabeta as his mother. She has been the closest to being to one than his mother himself. When Alfred was only 3 years old, his mother had passed away, leaving the young boy to be raised by his step father, Gilbert. A few years after he was diagnosed with a paralytic disease, Gilbert announced that they would be moving to Germany, since he had gotten a job there with his brother Ludwig. After the move, Alfred was soon taken to the Hetalia plus hospital, only to admitted as a permanent patient there. Alfred quickly became really close the workers at Hetalia Plus, and though it broke the rules, the workers there soon began to care a lot for Alfred. That's why they were trying so hard to find a cure for him, though they knew that the chances of his survival were slim. Still, they tried to make his life as enjoyable as it could be, even though the boy was put in a tough situation. But, much to Elizabeta and Roderich's surprise, Alfred acted as if he had no disease. The boy acted as if he was a normal, ten year old boy with not a problem in a world. But we can get back to that later. Right now, Alfred had a plane to inspect! Finishing his burger, Alfred pushed the plate away, ignoring the broccoli that was growing colder by the second. Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, he grabbed the paper, and leaned in close to it, trying to read the curly font. "err…I think that says…Gir? Gip? Git? Eh, whatever..." ignoring the funny looking word, Alfred kept reading only to be confused again. "Stay away from here, you git, unless you want to get yourself in a lot of trouble….signed Arthur Kirkland?" The ten-year old boy furrowed his eyebrows, confused. What the heck is this Arthur guy talking about? And was he the one that threw his plane over the fence? _Hmm…Maybe ill go back there again tomorrow and call around for a Arthur dude…_His thoughts were soon interrupted by a loud voice. "KESESESESE! Alfred! Daddy's home!" Alfred's head shot up in surprise as a red eyed albino burst through the door, causing Alfred to throw the paper to the side once more. "H-Hi dad.."

A/N: Err…this chapter is poopy. I don't like it. =3='' Well…Whatever. And sorry if my updating seems slow to some people…but I've been busy with trying to get ahead in my classes, since I'm going to Hawaii for a band trip in a couple weeks..but no worries! I will still try to update as much as possible. ^ ^ Even on the trip…I do have a 5 hour plane ride to sit through..so perhaps I can get a bit of writing done. XD Heh, We'll see. Anyways, I hoped you enjoyed this long, not so great chapter. Please, if you can, leave me a review..it makes me so happy to read them. TwT Stay tuned for the next chappie, guys! :3


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: GAH, I'm so sorry! I've been really busy, and my computer broke…so feel free to come at me with pitchforks for not updating. I deserve it for making you guys wait so long. DX I'll try and post these quickly, alright? Thank you to all of you who reviewed/favorite/alerted~! I love you for that!

Disclaimer: Do you really think ME of all people own hetalia? Psshhhaw! XD

Warnings: Er…I dunno. O3o

***Paper Plane***

"_H-Hi dad…"_

"Kesesese! There's my little Alfie!" The white haired man said, walking forward to ruffle Alfred's hair for the 3rd time that day. "How are you feeling? Elizabeta told me that you went outside today..."

"Oh. Yeah…I'm fine dad." Alfred gave him a reassuring smile, "I was just out playing in the field across the street."

Gilbert' froze, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "What? How far into that field did you go?" He demanded, looking the small boy directly in the eyes, a look of fear in his crimson eyes.

Alfred gulped, fiddling with his shirt sleeve nervously. "N-not very far…" he said quietly, looking away. "I just went in to get my paper plane I threw…then I left, I promise."

The red-eyed man studied Alfred for a moment, eyebrows furrowed. "…Alright. Just promise me this Al." Gilbert said, crouching down to be eye level with the ten year-old boy. "Never, and I mean NEVER go in that field again, okay?" Red met blue for a brief moment, as Alfred glanced at his step-father.

"O-Okay, Dad…I won't go there anymore." The blonde haired boy promised, still not looking completely at the albino man in front of him.

With those words, Gilbert sighed in relief and stood back up, ruffling Alfred's hair once more. "Now that's a good boy. Kesesese! Well, I have to get back to work now, Al. I'm only on a lunch break. So be a good boy and listen to Elizabeta and Roderich, okay?" the white haired man said, fixing the police hat that was rested neatly atop his snowy white hair.

The small American boy bit his lip and nodded, watching his step father head to the door. "Okay dad…Do you really have to go to work again? I rarely see you…" The small blonde boy said quietly, a look of sadness spread across his features.

Glancing back at the boy, the red-eyed man frowned. "Yeah…I'm sorry Al, but you know how demanding my job is…" pausing for a moment, the albino started to grin. "But don't worry! I have this weekend off, Alfred! Maybe we can go play catch or something…you like that stuff, right?" Gilbert said as he winked at his step-son.

Alfred smiled at that, throwing his small hands into the air. "Yeah! I love catch!"

A somewhat awkward silence filled the room as Gilbert straightened his black, police-like uniform, adjusting the red armband with a serious look on his face. "….Yeah, Right." The red-eyed man said after zoning out for a moment. "Okay. Well, I really got to go now Al. See you…soon." With those words said, he stepped out of the room, disappearing from Alfred's view.

"Bye…Dad." Alfred said with a sigh, falling backwards on the bed to stare up at the paper star covered ceiling. "…I wonder why I can't go in that field anymore…Must be something hidden there, since Dad freaked out so much…OH! I know! He probably hid my birthday gifts there!" the blue eyed boy grinned at that thought. "YEAH! That must be why he doesn't want me to go there! Well, I will go there again, and when I do, I will ask around for a Arthur guy too!" The blue-eyed boy practically shouted, brofisting the air. "Yeah! It's a promise!"

***Paper Plane***

"Arthur…! Arthur! …ARTHUR!"

An emerald eyed boy suddenly snapped awake as his shoulders were being shaken harshly . "Wha-? But Flying Mint Bunny, I gave those shoes to Tink-!" The blonde was cut off as a hand was clamped over his mouth.

"Shut up Arthur!" Antonio hissed, his voice a harsh whisper. "You'll attract the guards!"

Arthur just stared at the panicked looking boy in front of him for a moment, before finally realizing where he was. His emerald depths flashed with recognition and he nodded, reaching up and pulling the Spanish boy's hand away. "Right…I apologize. I was just having a strange dream…" Arthur said quietly, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. "I must have dozed off again…"

Antonio just rolled his eyes at the disheveled blonde in front of him. "Of course you did. I bet if you stopped staying up so late writing in that journal of yours, this wouldn't happen so often." The tan-skinned boy picked on a loose string sticking out of his tattered white shirt. "But anyway, what was your dream about?"

Arthur paused for a moment, furrowing his thick eyebrows. "Well…it was a little strange. It was about a sick girl and a little boy who was in a camp like ours…" After thinking hard for a moment, Arthur then added, "I think they both had blue eyes and blonde hair. But they didn't actually SPEAK to each other…they just passed paper airplanes with letters written on them."

The boy across from him raised a brow. "Paper planes? Arthur, I swear you have the strangest dreams."

Sighing, Arthur stretched his tired limbs. "I know…you always tell me that. Anyway, I was thinking...perhaps I should…" Arthur trailed off, furrowing his eyebrows once more. "Eh, forget it."

Antonio just rolled his eyes again, a small smile spread across his features. "Whatever, fratello. But I really think we should be heading back now."

Arthur nodded and slowly stood up, brushing the dirt off of his tattered brown khakis. "Very well."

***Paper Plane***

It was well into the next day before Alfred woke up. He had been up pretty late the previous night, the thoughts of his paper plane and the mysterious Arthur keeping him up for hours on end. Who was this Arthur guy, and what was he doing behind that tall barbed wire fence? Alfred stared up at the ceiling for awhile, trying to imagine what 'Arthur Kirkland' looked like. _Well…I'm pretty sure Arthur is a boy's name…So that just leaves what he looks like._ Alfred shifted on the bed. _I wonder if he looks like that boy who was in my dream last night… _The blue-eyed boy's thoughts were interrupted as Elizabeta opened the door to his room, carrying a plate of food.

"Oh, I see your awake now…Good afternoon, Alfred. Did you sleep alright?"She asked as she made her way to his bedside table, placing the food down on its mahogany surface.

"Huh? Oh! Yeah, I slept alright….I guess." Alfred said, sitting up and grabbing his glasses. He pushed the glasses up onto the bridge of his nose as he watched his nurse place silverware next to the steaming plate of food.

"You _guess?_" Elizabeta said, raising a brow. "Why do you guess?" she asked, grabbing a napkin and placing it on Alfred's lap.

"I don't know…I guess I just—" Alfred trailed off, realizing that he would sound stupid if he told Elizabeta that he was up half the night thinking about a boy and a paper airplane. "Nevermind."

Hearing this, the dirty blonde woman stopped moving for a moment. "…Your legs aren't giving you trouble again, are they?"

The small boy shook his head multiple times. "No, I promise, Lizzy." Alfred said, knowing how much that worried her.

Light green eyes settled on him for a moment before they returned to her work with a sigh. "Alright. If you're sure, Al. Oh, I noticed you didn't eat your broccoli last night." She said, her voice strict, but at the same time gentle. "You know Yao works hard on making all of the patients' food. You really should eat it…you don't want to hurt his feelings now, do you?"

Alfred frowned, and looked away guiltily. "O-of course not! I'm a HERO, remember? I promise I'll eat my broccoli next time!" the blue-eyed boy said loudly, making an 'x' over his heart with his finger.

Elizabeta smiled down at the boy, and leaned down to ruffle his hair. "Now there's our Hetalia Plus hero!" She exclaimed with a wink, pulling the table out to the side of Alfred's bed. "Now eat up! When I come back here, I expect everything on this plate to be in your stomach!" she said sternly, poking the boy's stomach gently, causing the blue-eyed boy to giggle. "You got that?"

Alfred nodded and watched her make her way to the door. "I sure do, Lizzy! You can count on this hero!" The boy announced, poking his own chest proudly, a childish grin spread across his face.

"Good. I'll be back soon, okay? I just need to feed the other patients." She said with a smile, turning the doorknob. "Call me or Roderich if you need anything." With that said, she turned and left Alfred alone in his room.

Immediately feeling lonely again, Alfred sighed, his smile disappearing. He looked down at the plate full of food. "…" Looking to his right, he noticed America, his paper airplane sitting here, as if it had been waiting patiently for him to wake up and take him outside. "….We'll go back there soon, okay?" the ten-year old said, picking up his fork and scooping up a spoonful of potatoes. Taking a bite, Alfred stared off into space for a moment before swallowing, a grin slowly growing on his face. "'Cause I have a plan."


End file.
